


memory

by fuwaesthetic



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: (because they died a bunch of years ago, Amnesia, Gen, Narrator Chara, can you blame their memory for being a little fuzzy?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 05:36:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5773360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuwaesthetic/pseuds/fuwaesthetic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>an old, forgotten lullaby</p>
            </blockquote>





	memory

"It says, 'No stinky human children allowed'."

"It does not," Frisk retorts, eyebrows pressed together. You roll your eyes--they're right, it doesn't, but how would  _they_ know? They wouldn't. They don't know monster language, even if they've been trying very hard to figure it out using your translations. (It's slow-going, but they're getting there. Maybe one day they won't even need you to translate for them anymore.) Frisk glances at you out of the corner of their eye when you don't immediately give up the ghost (ha); it's the only way they can see you, as you two have found out. Looking straight at you makes you vanish like a mirage. You shrug, giving them a crooked smile.

"You got me there," you reply, apparently too flippantly for their tastes. They wait patiently though, fingers curled into their oversized sweater, for the  _real_ translation. You consider pulling their leg again, but turn to the sign again and stare at the words until they blur into one big mess in your vision. You don't remember how you can read it, but you can, and really? That's all either of you need. "It says, 'A haunting song echoes down the corridor... Won't you play along? Only the first 8 notes are fine.'

... huh," you murmur softly, reaching up to trace the messy characters on the sign. "There wasn't a song playing when we walked here, was there?"

"No." Frisk looks just as perturbed as you do when you look at them; they almost turn back to the door, but you catch them by the shoulder. For just a moment, you can  _feel_ their warmth beneath your palm, their bony shoulder beneath their heavy sweater--but it passes as quickly as your hand passes through them. It is, at least, enough to give them pause and incline their head towards you.

"It can't be that hard to figure out," you say, motioning to the piano in the corner. They follow your gesture, uncertainly stepping towards it and trying out a few keys. From the looks of it, only five of them don't stick. You count permutations in your head while Frisk hits the notes in random order, and you find your foot tapping to a beat a familiar set of four trigger. Their playing dwindles down and so does your tapping, and once again you're left in the quiet, not quite staring at each other.

"Why did you stop humming?" They ask, turning just enough to see you. You shake your head, joining them by the piano and ghosting your fingers on the side of the instrument. You don't remember humming anything, but Frisk has proven themselves to be horribly nice and honest to boot. They could lie about you humming, but you know they wouldn't. The notion feels as foreign as the song they'd accidentally stumbled upon felt familiar, and you have a brief moment where you wonder if there's any correlation.

You kick the notion out of your head and concentrate on the task at hand.

"I was not humming."

"But you were," they retort immediately, apparently expecting your denial. You frown at them, crossing your arms after another moment of resting them against the piano's top, and shake your head again. It's futile, because they stare at you as hard as they can from the corner of their eye, and you feel your cheeks heat up  the way they usually do when you've been caught trying to hard to lie--only you don't know what you're lying about this time, what you're trying to make them believe. You don't reply, opting to go back to the other side of the room and stare at the sign on the wall again, and when it becomes clear you're not going to talk to them again they sigh and continue their piano trials.

You notice when you start humming this time, hand pressed to the bottom of your throat while Frisk fumbles past notes. You hear them pause, then mimic your humming, and the wall between you rumbles. The both of you jump, heads whipping up to the wall and its new door, and Frisk grins victoriously. You trail behind them, pausing beside the piano and giving it the stink-eye, before joining them in front of the red orb.

Amusement ripples through you as you notice a dog hop into Frisk's bag, and you laughingly inform them that they're carrying too many dogs to pick up the treasure they've found.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah........... yeah you can just listen to the music box and figure it out, but what if... just what if... [leans in closer] what if narrachara knew the song already and frisk could play it by ear? just a thought. a small thing.


End file.
